


Five on a Jedi Island

by yunmin



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Aftermath Trilogy References, Established Relationship, For the trailer at least, Found Family, Gen, Irreverence, Jedi Training, M/M, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Snark, Star Wars: The Last Jedi Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 18:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10645137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunmin/pseuds/yunmin
Summary: Four days after Rey arrives on Ahch-To, a ship appears overhead.A tale of Wedge Antilles, and his determination to save Luke Skywalker from himself. With snark.





	Five on a Jedi Island

**Author's Note:**

> This isn’t _quite_ crack fic, but it is still not entirely intended to be taken seriously. I have lifted a line from the ‘The Last Jedi’ trailer, so if you are wanting to remain completely and utterly spoiler free, back away now.
> 
> On the other hand, despite how charitable Denis Lawson currently seems to be being about Star Wars, I have serious doubts that he’s going to show up in TLJ, so… like, take this with a pinch of salt :D

Four days after Rey arrives on Ahch-To, a ship appears overhead.

She reaches for the lightsaber that’s still on her belt – Luke’s refused to take it – and wonders if she’ll be able to get back to the Falcon in time to shoot it down.

But Luke isn’t moving and that gives her pause. “Luke?” she asks, vocalising her concern. “There’s a ship overhead. Shouldn’t we do something?”

Luke is sitting with his eyes closed. He quirks an eyebrow up. “Is it a small Corellian Corvette?”

Looking up, Rey looks for the markings on the ship. There’s a distinctive curve to the hull, and the thrusters stick out at an angle that _has_ to mean the ship is Corellian. “Yes?”

“Than it isn’t a problem.”

Unconvinced, Rey picks herself up and wanders out to the cliff-side. The ship appears to be coming down to land beside the Falcon, where Chewie’s working on repairing a couple of loose connections and Artoo is beeping in disapproval. Chewie roars a question to Rey, raising his head towards the ship in the sky. “No idea. Luke says it isn’t anything to be concerned about.”

There’s nothing to be done until the ship lands. Rey retrieves her staff, preferring it to the saber – it’s a defensive weapon, and a non-permanent one too. She stands besides Chewie and wonders who on earth is going to come out of the ship.

When the gangway lowers, a human about Luke’s age walks out. He looks a little surprised. His hair is white-grey, and he’s wearing a battered flight jacket. Artoo whistles a very angry beep and rushes towards the man, bashing into his legs. He lowers himself down and strokes the top of Artoo’s head, whispering soft nonsense to him. Whoever it is, he recognises Artoo. Chewie roars a name and Rey turns from him back to the man, searching for familiar features. “Wedge? Wedge Antilles?”

The man lifts his head and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. “Yes?” Artoo is still running into him, incessantly beeping out an angry and rather foul stream. “Look, I’m sorry, if it helps he didn’t tell me where he was fucking off to, I just found him first.” He looks back up at Rey. “Sorry, ignore Artoo. Hi Chewie.” He gives a soft wave of his hand. “Where’s Luke pissed off to now?”

“He’s meditating out on the cliff,” Rey says. “Sorry. You are Wedge Antilles. The pilot who took down the Death Star. Right? I’m Rey.”

“Nice to meet you Rey. And yes, I am – in some description, anyway.” Wedge sticks out his hand for Rey to shake. “Now, excuse me, I’ve got to go and bollock Luke for not telling me you were here.”

.

“You know, I’m fairly certain Luke said that I was supposed to do this alone,” Rey says, as she hears the footsteps of a man come up behind her.

It takes surprisingly little time for Wedge Antilles to catch her up. “Yeah, well, fuck Luke.” Rey doesn’t comment on the fact that she’s _fairly_ certain Wedge does actually do that regularly. “Look, every so often he has actually had a good idea. This ranks as one of the worst ones. So screw him. I’m coming with you.”

Rey pauses and looks out over the cliff, across at the ocean that makes up ninety-percent of Ahch-To’s surface. “Are you here to intentionally undercut everything Luke’s trying to teach me?”

Wedge shrugs his shoulders, sticking his hands in his pockets. “No, I’m here to remind you that Luke’s sometimes a complete ass and that he’s petrified about fucking this up after what happened last time, and that you shouldn’t take what he says too seriously. And if Luke could take himself less seriously too, that would be great.”

“I think you possibly ought to have a little more faith in him.”

“I think that once you’ve dealt with him for thirty-five years than you can lecture me about what’s best for him.”

Rey stabs her staff into the ground, leaning her weight on it. “This is my journey. And whilst you’ve been off living a charmed domestic life with him here, the Galaxy’s been hurting. It needs me and it needs him, so I’ve got to do this.” She turns and looks around to the heights of the cliffs that she’s supposed to scale. “I’m doing this like Luke told me too. I can handle myself. I did spend fifteen years in a desert by myself, Wedge, you don’t need to baby me. Go and look after Luke instead – from the sounds of it, he needs you more than I do.”

Wedge’s eyebrows raise in surprise, and then his face melts. “Okay, Rey. Then prove it.”

.

“I like her.”

Luke doesn’t visibly react to Wedge’s presence, just continues moving through the kata he’s working on. “She’s a scrappy desert kid with a heart of gold. You’ve got a proven weakness for those.”

“Well, I’ve stuck with you all this time, so it must be true.” Wedge smirks, leaning against the wall. “She essentially told me in no uncertain terms to fuck off and that I should let you teach her the way you wanted to.”

Luke reaches the end of the kata and breathes deep. “You have a problem with my teaching methods?”

“I think you’re too wound up about it all. She ain’t Ben. I’m bloomin’ Force null and _I_ can tell that.” Wedge steps towards Luke. “Relax a bit. She was right on one thing; the galaxy needs you. So be your best. And fucking _relax_. Coruscant wasn’t built in a day.”

“Don’t suppose you’ve got any ideas on how to help me relax.”

Wedge gives the most lascivious grin. “One or two.” He pushes Luke back into the wall, kissing him thoroughly.

.

Three weeks in and Rey still isn’t really sure what to make of Wedge Antilles, other than he’s a _pain_ , but – as she discovers when he leaves for a new supply run – he goes some considerable way to making Luke a tolerable human being to be around.

It’s not that… he’s still Luke. He’s just a little more on edge, and a grump about things. And Wedge is right, he takes himself far too seriously.

She still thinks Wedge doesn’t take anything seriously _enough_.

“He means well,” Luke says, as Rey concentrates on lifting the scattered fragments of a rock she smashed earlier that day into a circle around her.

In her surprise – because Luke hasn’t said anything about anything that wasn’t related to the Force or food in almost thirty-six hours – Rey drops the rocks. Luke tuts softly at her and she reaches out, bringing a couple of them up in front of her before she raises the rest back up. “Who?” Rey queries, though she's pretty certain that she _knows_ who Luke’s referring too.

“Wedge. He’s trying. He’s… he went through a lot, for the Rebellion, and afterward, and then I left him and I’m still not quite sure he’s forgiven me for that.”

A couple of days ago Rey walked into the small house they all shared and found Wedge pressing Luke to the wall with his hand down Luke’s pants so she thinks things between them are probably okay.

“He’s a good man. Who saw a lot of awful things done. Who saw me go from this eager, excited kid to…” Luke waves his hand, gesturing at himself. “I think he wants to protect you.”

“I don’t need anyone to protect me.”

“It’s not about _needing._ ” Luke stresses the word. “It’s about having people who care for you, even when you’ve done everything in the world to push them away. People you can rely on, who’ll pick you up after everything.”

“I have one of those.” Rey’s voice is full of a defensive note.

Luke laughs, softly, the first time Rey’s heard it without Wedge around to directly provoke it. “One’s a good start. All you need, really.” His voice is fond and Rey’s certain he’s thinking of Wedge. “But you can have more than one. It’s worth having more than one. And I can certainly speak from experience. Wedge is a good one to have in your corner.”

Rey sends the pebbles spinning in a desperate arc around her body, trying not to think. She’s only ever trusted a few people. Finn. Han. She only has one of them left. And sure – Leia, Poe, Luke, Chewie, BB-8 – they’re all slowly worming their way into her heart. But it’s _not_ the same.

If she’s going to let anyone in, it won’t be Wedge.

.

After Wedge returns, Rey steers clear for a little bit, preferring Chewie’s company, to give Wedge and Luke space for whatever reunion they need.

It’s dusk when she returns to the house, a Wookiee and a Droid following her in. They’re an odd little family here, Rey dimly admits. Luke’s at the stove, dinner already on, while Wedge is hobbling about behind him, leaning on a cane. “Sit down,” Luke reprimands. “Look, I’ve got Chewie and Artoo to help me. Sit, hon.”

Wedge rolls his eyes but deposits himself on a pile of cushions. He’s only wearing a shirt and some boxer shorts, so Rey can see white scars the criss-cross one of his legs. He stretches it out, flexing the joint, grumbling under his breath.

“What happened?”

As far as Rey was aware, Wedge was in fine health. He keeps up with her and Luke without issue, and that’s without the Force. The man in front of her is a contrast to that. She wonders if he was injured on the supply run? Are they in danger here now?

Surely Wedge wouldn’t do anything as stupid as to bring the First Order down on them.

“Don’t ever do something so stupid as to blow up your own ship. And then if you _do_ do that, don’t get caught by the Empire and find yourself on the retrieving end of some particularly nasty torture, with no rescue in sight.”

Ahh. So an old injury.

“You did get rescued,” Luke intercuts, from the stove.

“Yeah, only out of pure _luck_ ,” Wedge emphasises. “I’d also previously broken this leg, pretty badly, bad enough that they didn’t even know if I’d fly again, so that didn’t help. I’m okay most days, but there’s a reason why I’m not with Leia in an X-Wing cockpit.”

For the first time, Rey can see the weight of the years of fighting in Wedge’s face. “Who rescued you?” she asks. She can sense enough that it wasn’t Luke.

“Norra and Temmin Wexley. Snap’s with the Resistance now, you might have met,” Wedge says, and Rey picks an image of a tall dark haired man with a beard she recognises out of his mind. “And Sinjir, and Jas and fucking Mister Bones -- I mean, look, I was unconscious for most of this, you really want Snap to tell you this story. My version’s a pale imitation. How about I tell you about when a certain lady disobeyed senate instructions and went off piste to help liberate Kashyyyk? Hey Chewie?”

“Just cause you played hero in that one!” Luke scoffs. “Or you know, Wedge, you could always tell her about Lieutenant Kettch.”

Artoo gives out the wickedest whistling beep as Wedge groans. “Lieutenant Kettch?” Rey asks, intensely curious.

“Otherwise known as the time I almost murdered Wes Janson.” Wedge shifts, trying to make himself comfortable, patting the cushions to indicate that Rey should join him. “Lieutenant Kettch was a… how do I put this? An Ewok pilot.” And Rey listens, increasingly dubious, as Wedge spins the tale of the most ludicrous pranks she’s ever heard.

.

“You’ve got to come back with me!”

Rey can’t even believe they’re having this conversation. Or not, as the case might be. Luke is lurking at the edge of the cave, staring out into the water below, and she’s not sure he’s listening to a word that she’s saying.

“The Galaxy needs us. We are _Jedi_ , we have a responsibility to protect people.”

“I only know one truth. It's time for the Jedi to end,” is all Luke says.

Rey clenches her fists tightly shut, resisting the urge to grab Luke and full-body shake him. He _can_ _’t_ do this, not after he trained her.

“Ignore him, he’s being melodramatic.” Wedge’s irreverent tone sounds from behind Rey. “Luke, if you wanted an end to the Jedi you wouldn’t have fucking trained her. So like, can we skip this bit and move onto the fact that you just don’t want Leia to kill you.”

Luke sighs. “She’s not exactly going to be happy with you _either_ , dear.”

“And I’ll suck it up and endure the two weeks of ice-cold treatment before she realises she needs me to manage you. Honestly, I’m expecting Tycho’s reaction to be worst.”

“You have actively been lying to him for the past five years.”

“Exactly.”

“Umm.” Rey intercuts their bickering, unsure about who they’re even talking about anymore. “I think Leia would be grateful to get you back. That was half the reason I came.”

“He’ll go with you,” Wedge says. “Won’t you, dearie?” Wedge gives Luke an astonishingly cold stare. “Luke, you’re going. There aren’t anymore answers to be found here.”

Luke shakes his head, but comes away from the edge of the cave. “You’ve got this annoying habit of being right, love.” Wedge wraps an arm around Luke’s shoulders and presses a kiss to his temple.

Rey figures that… well… at least she got what she wanted.

.

“So, what’s Wedge Antilles like these days?” Poe asks, as he and Rey and Finn attempt to catch an hour of downtime before their lives become a hectic mess once again.

Rey lifts her head from where it’s curled on Finn’s shoulder, looking across at Poe, who’s lying across the opposite bench. “A bit of a dick, honestly. I think I’ve heard about six sincere words come out of his mouth.”

Poe furrows his brow. “That doesn’t sound like him.”

Rey shrugs. It doesn’t matter to her how much Wedge lives up to his supposed reputation. “Skywalker’s not what I was expecting, either,” Finn mutters.

“Neither of them are.”

.

It’s late at night – or early in the morning, depending on who you ask – when Rey finally slips into the medbay to sit by her teacher’s bedside.

“Is he going to be alright?” Luke looks pale against the stark white sheets, his grey hair lying uneven where it had been scorched by the lightsaber.

Wedge Antilles smiles at her. His arm is slung up in a sling, his forearm in a cast, and there’s a nasty cut on his forehead from where Kylo Ren flung him against a wall. “Yeah. Given a bit of time.”

“And yourself?”

“Kalonia says that my arm will be better in either six weeks or with the next bacta shipment, whichever comes first, and that the headache should dissipate in the next forty-eight hours.” Wedge shrugs. “Frankly, I’ve had worse.”

He looks way more cheery than he has any right to be, given that Rey is still a little confused as to how he’s still _alive._ “That was stupid, you know. Confronting Ren. You aren’t force-sensitive, it was just _dangerous_.”

“What was I supposed to do, let him hurt you?”

“ _Yes_!” Rey tells him. “It’s my responsibility.”

“You sound like Luke. For the record, it isn’t.” Wedge strokes a thumb over the back of Luke’s hand. His expression is impossibly fond. “It bought you enough time to get back on your feet. And we all got out alive. From my perspective, that’s a win.”

Bitterly, Rey will have to admit that she doesn’t _know_ what she’d have done if Wedge hadn’t show up when he did. “Thanks,” she whispers, under her breath.

Wedge raises an eyebrow. He heard her. “Anytime. That’s what I’m here for.”

“They call him unkillable for a reason.”

Both Rey and Wedge whip their heads round. Luke has stirred, bleary eyed, voice rough.

“Shut up,” Wedge says, but it’s full of affection. “That was always a stupid nickname.”

“Whatever, Rogue Leader. Isn’t impossible what you do?”

Wedge shakes his head at Luke’s ramblings. “Go back to sleep, you fool.” He leans over to one of the many contraptions Luke’s hooked up to, and presses a button, releasing more of the narcotic that’s keeping Luke under and healing into his system. Coming back, he brushes his lips over Luke’s forehead, and strokes a hand across his jaw.

“You love him,” Rey says, the words coming out unbidden.

“Yeah,” Wedge replies. “Always have.”

“He’s lucky to have you.”

Wedge scoffs, but he accepts it. Maybe he recognises the sincerity in her words. Because Rey means it; she’s still not sure she understands Wedge, or quite what his place is in this entire thing, but – she’s pretty glad to have him, in the end.


End file.
